


Running From Our Problems

by guidetothegalaxy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Sports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guidetothegalaxy/pseuds/guidetothegalaxy
Summary: Cross country was Lance's sport, and so he wasn’t about to lose to this stranger. This stranger who didn't know they were racing.





	1. Closing the Gap

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! I've never done anything like this before, so if you have any advice or suggestions just let me know.  
> Also, the team aspects are roughly based on my own team, but I'm not a guy so I just kind guessed for good times and team dynamics.  
> Let me know if you find mistakes!

Lance was breathing hard. He glanced down at his Garmin. _6:30 pace? Damn, he's fast._

Lance sped up, he wouldn’t be beat by this stranger. This stranger who didn’t know they were racing. Lance was the captain of the cross country team. Not only was he the captain, but he was the number one runner, and he took it very seriously.

Cross country was his sport. He loved the way it made him feel as his lungs strained in the final mile of the race, or the way his mind wandered during a hard workout. Or the way the freezing rain soaked his spikes during a hard race. Most of the guys on the team were mid distance runners, but not him. He loved the strain of a 60 mile week.  
And because it was his sport, he wasn’t about to lose to this stranger. He had spotted him nearly 3 miles ago, and had been determined to pass him. The stranger had his hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, loose strands were waving as he ran. He wore long running shorts down to his knees and a long sleeve with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Lance couldn’t believe he still had it on in the heat. Lance had stripped his shirt off after nearly a quarter mile, it was _hot_. 

Lance smiled as the light changed ahead of him. The other runner would have to stop. Okay, so it might technically be cheating, but Lance was determined to pass him one way or another. Lance neared the other runner, he was leaned into the busy street trying to find an opening in the traffic. He cursed as the light changed and the other runner took off again, but he was close enough to finally get a better look at the other runner. He did not want to be beaten by an old man, or worse, one of the sprinters.

_Wait._ Lance faltered, he would recognize that _mullet_ anywhere. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t actually a mullet, but he didn’t care. And, okay, maybe he made it work, but he’d never admit it. 

Lance picked the pace up even more, his determination stronger than before. Of course, it had to be Keith. The only other kid in the school who ever beat him in class. It wouldn’t have bothered Lance except Keith _hardly_ ever came to class. Not just class, but school. They had nearly identical schedules, and Keith seemed to miss school at least once per week. And when he was there, he would be called down to the offices more often than not. Lance wasn’t sure why, he was pretty sure Keith wasn’t one to get into fights, and he hardly ever spoke to anyone. In fact, Lance was pretty sure he had never heard him speak at all. 

Lance looked up again, his legs were burning, begging him to slow down. He gritted his teeth and sped up again, but the gap still didn’t close. He couldn’t keep this kind of pace up, it was draining. He sighed and slowed down slightly, his breath changing from rasps to a steady beat. He still couldn’t believe it; _Keith?_ Keith of all people, beating him on a run? Well, there was mile repeats yesterday. He pressed his lips together. If he wasn’t tired already, he surely could beat him, right?

He finally managed to push Keith out of his mind when the dinging of the railroad gates brought his gaze up again. He grinned and sped up, glad to have the stop. He rounded the corner and his eyes narrowed. There he was, Keith, arms folded over his chest as he watched the train slowly pass. 

Lance grinned, it was only a mile back to school at this point, he was pretty sure he could beat Keith back if they started at the same time. Lance found his eye drifting as Keith gripped the bottom edge of his shirt. Lance thought he was finally going to take it off. After all, who wears a long sleeve to run in the middle of July?  
Lance stopped. Completely stopped. Keith was using the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his eyes. “Keith?” Lance said, his voice shaking. He stepped closer to the other boy as Keith whipped around, yanking his shirt back down. 

It didn’t matter, Lance had already seen. He had seen the deep purple bruises trailing on Keith’s lower back. The bruises circled down over his hip and vanished under his waistband. Red puffy scars sat on top of the bruises, some seeming new while others seemed to be years old. 

Keith’s eyes were wide as he stared at Lance. He looked like a deer in the headlights, completely frozen on the spot. 

“Keith,” Lance repeated, his eyes drifting from Keith’s eyes down to his abdomen. Keith caught the movement and glanced back at the train looking to escape. The gates were still down. 

“Keith, what happened?” Lance said his throat dry and hoarse as the images of Keith’s back replayed in his head. 

Keith shook his head, his eyes still wide. His eyes darted to the side before he bolted. Lance was too stunned to follow.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lance was sitting in the park with his two best friends and teammates; Hunk and Pidge. Pidge was a track star. She was a state medalist in the 800 and the 4 by 8, but she wasn’t nearly as good in cross country, it just wasn’t her sport. She really only did it to stay in shape, and because Coran made her. Hunk could hardly make it around the track once without having to stop and walk. But what he lacked in speed, he made up for in strength. He was their high school's number one thrower. He even made it to state last season in shot put. But now that track was over, Hunk was enjoying his off season until winter came around again. 

“Really? Keith doesn't seem like a runner,” Pidge said as Lance finished talking. Hunk nodded in agreement. “Are you sure it was him?” he said his eyebrow raised in suspicion. “No, it definitely was him. I think I would recognize my rival,” he said firmly. Pidge rolled her eyes, “Dude, he’s not your rival. I don’t think he even knows who you are,” Pidge said.

“You should ask him if he wants to be on the team. Ever since Shiro graduated your team hasn’t made it to state,” Hunk said with a shrug.  
Lance chewed his lip nervously, “Yeah, but I qualified individually last year,” he said. Pidge shook her head, “It’s more fun as a team. I can’t imagine going to the state meet without the other girls on my relay team,” she said.

Lance scrunched his face, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I had to go alone with Coran last year. As great as he is, it was a little weird,” Lance said with a shrug. “Did you talk to him on the run? You said you caught up to him at the tracks,” Hunk asked.

Lance swallowed hard, he had left that part out. As much as he loved gossiping, he knew it wasn’t some stupid harmless rumor. This was bigger than that, what ever Keith was hiding, it wasn’t his story to tell. He chewed his lip again, but then again, maybe he should tell someone what he saw… 

Pidge snapped her fingers in front of his face to draw him from his thoughts. “What?” he said surprised. “Oh right, no I didn’t talk to him. He turned out after a few minutes. I don’t think he wanted to wait for the train any longer. It was a freight train,” he said his words rushed. Hunk raised an eyebrow, Lance was never a very good liar.  
“You should really try to recruit him before the meets start. Do you want his number?” Pidge said pulling out her phone. 

Lance’s face dropped, “You have his number?” he said his mouth hung slightly open. “Jealous?” Hunk teased, poking Lance in the arm. Lance faltered again, “W-what?” he squeaked. “No, but why do you have his number?” he said recovering quickly. 

Pidge shrugged, “He’s friends with Matt and Shiro, so we used to all hang out when they were still in highschool,” she said offering her phone again. Lance found himself copying the number into his own phone before he realized what he was doing. “So what’s his deal?” Lance asked, trying to keep his voice casual. 

“I think he’s gay,” Pidge said locking eyes with him. Lance choked, “T-that’s not what I meant!” he cried helplessly. Pidge shrugged, happy to be making him as uncomfortable as possible. “I’m not completely sure, but I know he had a lot of family problems. When we were little, both his parents were killed by a drunk driver,” Pidge said her voice tender. 

“Oh my god,” Hunk said softly. “That’s terrible,” Hunk continued, shaking his head. Pidge nodded slowly, “I think he still lives with his uncle, but they don’t get along very well,” she said standing up.

Lance felt a chewing sensation in his chest. Don’t get along? What did that mean? He fell into a troubled silence, thinking of the deep purple bruises and the scars.


	2. Sorry...Who?

**Lance:** Hey Keith, this is Lance. I was wondering if you would be interested in coming out for the cross country team? I saw you running this morning and you’re fast. 

 

Lance threw his phone across the room after sending the text. It had been nearly a week since he had raced Keith through town, but he wasn’t about to remind him of that. He had seen Keith running this morning, though, so it wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t going to text him, ever, but Coran had insisted as soon as he saw Keith fly past the track, his feet hardly touching the ground as he ran- no- flew. 

He walked back over to his phone, why wasn’t he responding? He nearly dropped it as it buzzed in his hand. He swallowed and unlocked the screen.

 

**Keith:** Sorry, who?

 

That jerk! Lance pressed his lips together in annoyance. They had 6 out of 8 of the same classes last school year. How did he not know who? He tapped out another text angrily and pressed send before storming off into the kitchen. 

 

**Lance:** Uhh Lance McClain. I sat next to you in just about every class? We had the same schedule except for 2nd and 6th period? 

 

Lance groaned and walked back into his room, snatching his phone from his bed where he left it. He was surprised to see Keith had already responded.

 

**Keith:** Oh right. 

 

Lance rolled his eyes. He still wasn’t sure if Keith actually remembered him, but it wasn’t the point. 

**Lance:** So do you want to join the team? We really need a 7th runner for our varsity team. Coran would love to have you. 

Lance felt his phone buzz three times right in a row. He opened the conversation with Keith and he sighed, disappointed. 

**Keith:** No  
 **Keith:** ...no thanks

He started to reply and then realized he still had an unread text. He flipped back to his conversations. Shiro? He opened the conversation in confusion. He hadn’t heard from Shiro in nearly a year. They had stayed in touch for the first year after he had graduated, but they had grown apart since then. 

He started to reply and then realized he still had an unread text. He flipped back to his conversations. Shiro? He opened the conversation in confusion. He hadn’t heard from Shiro in nearly a year. They had stayed in touch for the first year after he had graduated, but they had grown apart since then. 

**Shiro** He’ll do it. 

Lance raised an eyebrow. 

**Lance:** What?  
 **Shiro:** Keith.  
 **Lance:** …  
 **Shiro:** He’ll join the team.   
**Lance:** How did you know..?  
 **Shiro:** He’s at my house right now.   
**Lance:** Shiro, he doesn't want to…  
 **Shrio:** Meet us at the pizza place in 10 minutes and I’m sure we can convince him.   
**Lance:** Okay…?

Lance walked into the restaurant and looked around for the two others. He stopped, seeing them in the corner and waved before heading over. 

Keith shrank in the booth as Lance approached. He tugged nervously at his sleeves, yanking the fabric down over his hands before looking up. He glared at Shiro, his bright eyes narrowed, but Shiro just smiled. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Shiro. How’s college?” Lance said sitting down next to Shiro.

Keith’s face was laced in discomfort. Lance couldn’t tell if Keith recognized him from class, but he knew he would remember him from that morning last week. There was no way either of them could forget.

Shiro smiled, “It’s great," he said pausing to look at Keith. He smiled, "It’s nice to still be on a team,” he said kicking Keith under the table. Keith scooted away so that he was across from Lance instead of Shiro. He glared at Shiro again, but the look was half hearted. 

Lance smiled. It really was nice to see Shiro again. Shiro had been the top runner on the team during Lance’s first two years of high school. In fact, he still held the high school's records in the 3200 and the 1600, but his cross country record was close to falling at the hands of Lance. Shiro had been a great role model and friend while he was still there. But now he was at an ivy league school on a running scholarship. 

“So Keith’s interested in joining the team,” Shiro said before Lance could respond. Keith opened his mouth but nothing came out. He sat there with his mouth open for a moment before he started coughing his eyes on Shiro with a look of betrayal. Shiro was hiding a laugh behind his hand as he watched the younger boy struggle. 

“No,” Keith croaked grasping for his water on the table. Lance looked up, he was pretty sure that was the first time he had heard his voice. Keith set the glass down and looked up, “No,” he repeated again. His voice was softer than Lance had expected. 

Shiro looked at Keith again, “Come on, remember what we talked about?” he said his voice begging. Keith chewed his lip, avoiding Shiro’s gaze, obviously he did remember. “Keith, you’re pretty fast,” Lance said leaning forward toward him. Shiro laughed at that, and Lance raised an eyebrow. “No really! He’s fast! I saw him-” but Shiro held up his hand. “Lance, he’s _really_ fast. He might even give you a run for your money during cross. And if he does track, he could definitely take down my 3200 record,” Shiro said nudging Keith with his foot again. 

Keith blushed. The red spread across his face and he pressed the back of his hand to his cheek briefly to cool his burning skin. He shook his head stubbornly, “Shiro-” he said his voice a painful plea. He seemed like a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Come on,” Shiro said his eyes twinkling, “for me?” he said his charm evident. Keith seemed to crumble at that. He exhaled slowly and the tension visible in his shoulders seemed to vanish, “fine,” he said seeming to pout. 

Both Lance and Shiro broke into a cheer, causing everyone in the restaurant to stare. Keith seemed to shrink again in the booth and he dropped his head onto the table with a moan.

“Hey come on, it will be fun!” Lance said with a cheerful grin. Inside he was doubtful though. Did Shiro really think Keith was faster than both of them? No, not faster than Lance, but just good competition. Well, they were on the same team so they would have to work together, become friends. But...this was _Keith_ , he didn’t _like_ Keith.


	3. Things Said In Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one is short I didn't want to split the next section in half or it would end in the middle of a scene so this one is short and the next one will be pretty long.

“So you got him to join?” Pidge said as they began the warm up. She quickly fell in stride with Lance. Lance nodded, “So where is he?” she said glancing around quickly. _Oh. Maybe he had backed out._ Lance hadn’t really talked to him about it since meeting him and Shiro for lunch. 

“Oh! There he is. Wait, who’s that? Oh my god, is that Shiro?” she said her jog turning into a sprint as she hurdled herself toward him. 

Keith, Shiro, Hunk and Coran were all standing in a group as Pidge skid to a stop. “Katie!” Shiro yelled pulling Pidge into a hug. “Hey congrats! I watched the state finals on my computer, you had a great kick. The girl didn’t even see you coming!” he said releasing her. She was beaming, “I kicked her ass,” she said her hands on her hips before turning to Coran realizing her slip up, “Sorry,” she squeaked. 

She turned to Keith and smiled, “I’m glad you decided to join the team,” she said quickly before running back to join the rest of the team. Keith’s lips curved up into a small smile as he watched Pidge trott away.  
Lance raised an eyebrow as she rejoined them, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile,” he said looking back over to him. “Are you kidding?” Pidge said an eyebrow raised. She realised he wasn't, “Oh, well I guess I just have a way with people,” she said and Lance bent over, laughing. “Oh please!” he said between laughs.

Hunk and Coran walked over to the group of runners with Shiro and Keith in tow. “We have some exciting news,” Coran said seeming to bubble with excitement. “We have two new teammates!” he said gesturing wildly. Everyone stared blankly at Hunk. Hunk laughed, “Don’t worry, you won’t have to scrape me off the sidewalk during runs. I’ll be managing the team,” he said and the team broke into laughter.  
“And, this, is Keith Kogane,” Coran said. Shiro grabbed Keith from where he was standing behind him, as if hiding behind the bigger athlete. Keith’s face flushed red again as Shiro held him firmly in place in front of him. The team clapped politely and mumbled greeting to the two new team members. 

Coran again gestured, “And this is Shiro. He’s a team alum and a college runner. He offered to help us out for the rest of the summer before he goes back to school,” he said and Shio waved, his prosthetic arm standing out in the bright morning sun.  
Lance had nearly forgotten. Shiro’s junior year he had been in a terrible car crash, a drunk driver had hit him while he was on his motorcycle. He had lost his arm and had been out for a long time in rehab. He wasn’t expected to be able to walk, let alone run any time soon, but he had proved the doctors all wrong. He had went on to win the state meet in the 3200 and he gained a reputation of a celebrity in the runner community. 

Keith and Shiro were running side by side. Lance could hear them talking softly together as they ran, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Coran had stopped him to talk to him while the rest of the team already went out for their run. He had already passed the rest of the team as he made his way toward the two runners out in front. 

The two were finally forced to stop at a light and Lance caught up. “Oh good. We were waiting for you,” Shiro said as Lance stood with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. “That’s what you call waiting?” he wheezed. “I had to sprint to catch up,” he moaned. 

Lance saw a small smirk on Keith’s face, and he felt his heart beat a little faster… because he was tired from sprinting. 

“Keith, you really shouldn’t wear long sleeves when it’s this hot,” he said his face serious as he saw Keith’s face dripping with sweat. Keith glanced down at his long sleeve shirt and then over to Shiro’s tank top and then to Lance’s bare chest. _Hey it was hot._

He shrugged and the light changed, and the group took off. “You know, Lance is right. You really _should_ be able to wear a t-shirt,” Shiro said, seeming to be silently communicating something to Keith. Lance narrowed his eyes. What? 

Keith looked at Shiro, his face raw with emotion, “Really, I’m _fine,_ ” he said and Shiro just sighed. He gave him a look, _we’ll talk later._ Lance faltered, wondering if he should be invading such a personal conversation. He couldn’t help his eyes glancing to Keith’s back. His shirt bounced as he ran and he found himself trying to see the skin underneath. Was it still purple or was it just the shadows? 

 

“So how did you like your first week?” Lance asked leaning over Keith as he sat stretching on the track. Keith seemed to flinch as Lance appeared but he recovered quickly. He shrugged, and opened is mouth to speak but closed it again. 

Lance pressed his lips together, “a shrug is all I get?” he teased. His gaze locked onto Pidge’s from across the track. _Help me._ Pidge snorted and jogged over, plopping herself next to Keith. Keith shrugged again, “It was fine,” he said his voice soft. 

Pidge’s face twitched into a mischievous grin, “So, Keith,” she began, “the team is watching a movie at Coran’s house tomorrow night for some ‘team bonding’ crap,” she said eyeing Lance. “Hunk, Lance and I are going to hang out before,” she continued. Lance’s eyes glared at her. _No, don’t invite him._ “You should come,” she said ignoring Lance. 

Keith’s face remained unreadable. “I don’t know, Pidge,” he said his eyes down. Pidge smiled sadly, reminded of the Keith she knew all those years ago. The one who withdrew from everyone after his parent’s died. The one who sunk into a depression and lashed out at those close to him in anger and fear. Pidge set her jaw, no not that Keith. A different Keith, one fighting different demons. And this time, he wouldn’t be alone.

“It will be fun! Lance will pick you up!” she said and jogged away, yanking Lance along with before he could protest her words.


	4. Chapter 4

Lance grumbled, Keith still hadn’t responded. He had sent nearly a dozen texts and called him twice. He was suppose to pick Keith up in half an hour but he had no idea where Keith lived, and technically Keith never said he wanted to come.  
Lance opened the conversation with Shiro. Shiro seemed to always be with Keith, maybe he knew where he lived.

**Lance:** Hey, have you heard from Keith? He’s not answering…  
 **Shiro:** I’ve been trying all day. I’m getting worried, but I’ll be at work till late.  
 **Lance:** I can check on him. I’m suppose to pick him up for the movie at Coran’s anyway. Can you send his address?  
 **Shiro:** Yeah, but if there is a black truck in the drive, let me know, but don’t bother.  
 **Lance:** ...why?  
 **Shiro:** It means he isn’t home.

Lance set out to the address Shiro sent, his mind wandering as he drove. He pulled up to the address Shiro had sent. 

The house was small, and completely black inside. Not a single light was on, but the front door was cracked open. He glanced to the driveway and pressed his lips together. The black truck sat in the driveway, it’s paint glowing in the setting sun. _It means he isn’t home._

_That can’t be right._ Lance turned off the car and pulled out his phone, shooting Keith a text. His head shot up as he heard a faint shout. He climbed out of the car and looked around for the source.

Lance found himself walking closer and closer to the house, the shouting growing louder and louder. He could only hear one voice. One loud voice yelling, the words slurred and jumbled as the voice yelled. Angrily. Lance swallowed hard as he reached the porch steps. The sound of breaking glass rang through the partially open door. Lance took another step up, digging in his pocket for his phone. _Shit._ His phone was still in the car.. 

“No, stop!” a voice shouted, a different voice. “Get back here you worthless shit!” a loud slurred voice shouted as the front door slammed open. 

Lance didn’t have time to move from the steps before someone lept from the top of the porch square into Lance’s chest. 

The two hit the ground below with a massive thud. Lance felt the wind get knocked out of him as the stranger landed hard on his chest. He looked up, his eyes full of panic and confusion. The smaller boy looked down, his bright eyes brimmed with tears and fear, his long dark hair dangling down. _Keith._

Keith sprang to his feet, and yanked Lance’s arm, pulling him roughly to his feet. Keith didn’t stop for Lance to regain his footing, he just kept running, his fist clinging to Lance’s t-shirt like his life depended on it. Lance felt his heart race like it never had before, he risked a look behind to see a man stumble out of the house, yelling incomprehensible. He waved a broken beer bottle in his hand before throwing it to the ground, shattering it further. 

Keith kept running, his red converse sliding over the wet grass as he turned sharply into a park. He dropped Lance’s shirt but Lance didn’t dare stop, he sprinted after Keith his mind too numb to know any better. 

The two boys kept sprinting until neither could go any further. Keith had tore through the forest, leaving the park trail and leaping over the fallen trees like he knew their exact placement. He finally leapt over a fallen tree and dropped to the ground below, his back pressed against the bark. 

Lance scrambled over the tree and dropped next to Keith, his breathing harder than ever before. He felt like a knife had stabbed his lungs as he hunched over, gasping. He could hear the adrenaline pumping in his ears as he forced his eyes shut to calm his blurry vision. He didn’t dare look at Keith’s face, afraid what he might find.

Keith pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his head onto his arms. His breathing was ragged, and uneven. The two boys sat in silence, only their breathing audible over the soft rustle of the forest.   
Lance finally forced his eyes open and saw Keith’s violet eyes staring at him. They were dull and emotionless, the tears long dried. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he said his voice barely a whisper. 

Lance felt a rock drop in his stomach at Keith’s words. _He had to tell someone._ He finally turned to look at Keith. Really _look_. 

Keith’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly, a worn band t-shirt clinging to his chest with sweat. His black jeans were ripped and covered with mud from the forest floor. Keith slowly unlaced his arms from his knees and let them fall to his sides, tossing his head back against the log. 

Lance swallowed hard. Keith’s arms were laced in bruises. Four thin lines where the blood vessels below the skin had been damaged. Four thin lines where fingers had been. A thick red welt was just above his elbow. _A belt._

Lance finally looked up at Keith’s face. He felt like someone hit his gut as he saw the mark on Keith’s face. A red splotch was visible across his cheek, bright against Keith’s pale skin. Lance found himself reaching out, his hand shaking nervously. Keith flinched away, and stood up, his mouth letting out a soft moan at the movement. He started walking away, casting a glance back at Lance, his violet eyes sparkling in the setting sun. 

Lance scrambled to his feet and ran forward to catch up, “Keith,” he said grabbing his arm to stop him. Keith flinched, his muscles all tense. “Keith,” Lance repeated, flinching at the sound of his own voice. He hadn’t meant to shout. 

At the sound of Lance’s shout Keith seemed to submit. His muscles remained taught but his eyes pinched shut and his posture opened. His head turned away, and Lance was instantly reminded of a wolf offering it’s throat to the alpha.  
Lance looked down at his own hand and gasped. His figures were wrapped around Keith’s biceps. His fingers pressing onto the hand print already burned onto Keith’s skin. He withdrew his hand in a panic.

“Keith, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he pleaded his voice soft. He glanced down, a smear of red catching his eye. 

He inhaled sharply, seeing Keith’s forearm. It was cut up, dried blood leaving a trail down his arm. Small pieces of glass were stuck into his skin. Lance felt tears come to his eyes. _The beer bottle. He was protecting himself from the beer bottle._

Keith still remained silent. He looked at Lance for a moment before turning and walking toward a patch of dense trees. Lance could do nothing but follow. 

Keith walked like he was in a trance, slowly but gracefully. He approached a dead tree, it’s branches sticking out out at odd angles. He hoised himself up on the branches, his movements seemed practiced. Lance looked up, unsure if he should follow or not. He reached a hand out to the lowest branch and prepared to hoist himself up when he realised Keith had stopped.

Keith had his hands in a hole in the tree’s trunk. The bits of rotten wood were raining down as he yanked a black backpack from the hole. He dropped from the tree with a grunt as his shoes smacked the ground below. He swung it onto his shoulders and started walking again. He still hadn’t spoken. 

Lance scrambled after him, the realization dawning on him. Keith knew exactly what he was doing. He had a bag ready for this very situation. _This wasn’t the first time._

“Keith,” he said again unable to say anything else. Keith didn’t respond, he just kept walking. Lance fell in step next to him as they walked, farther and farther from the house and the nightmare. 

“Keith, we need to get the glass out of your arm,” Lance said after nearly ten minutes of silence. Keith turned and blinked slowly, his face slightly confused. He raised his arm and glanced down, realization dawning on his face. “It’s fine,” he said his voice empty.   
Keith stopped in front of a tall apartment building. He entered the building and climbed the stairs, the people in the lobby eyeing him nervously. 

He paused in front of a door on and knocked, when no one came to the door he huffed softly, blowing his bangs out of his face. Lance grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall and into the bathroom at the end.   
Lance yanked Keith’s arm under the sink and he hissed softly. The mixture of blood and glass shards draining down the sink. “I wish I had something to bandage it,” Lance said as he plucked the shards from Keith’s bleeding arm.   
Keith yanked his arm away and starting digging through his backpack, pulling out a small ziplock bag full of gauze and bandages. _Keith was prepared._

“Whose apartment was that?” Lance asked as they made their way to the garage of the apartment building. Keith swallowed, and remained silent for a moment, unsure if he should speak. After a moment he sighed, “Shiro’s.” 

He dug through the bag and pulled out a set of keys. He turned the corner of the parking garage and walked toward two motorcycles sitting in the corner. 

Lance recognized the first one. It was Shiro’s bike. The one he had lost his arm on. It had been repaired and looked brand new, like it had never left the garage since then. The second bike was much smaller. It looked old, but in a classic, vintage sort of way. It’s paint was a deep scarlet red, standing out sharply against Shiro’s black bike. 

Keith pulled out a red leather jacket from his backpack and pulled it on in a hurry. He grabbed the helmet off the seat and yanked it on. He grabbed the helmet from Shiro’s bike and thrust it at Lance.

“Keith, where are we going?” Lance asked softly. Keith shook his head and swung his leg over the bike. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly, scooting forward for Lance to get on behind. 

Lance obediently followed, clinging to the side of the bike and Keith pulled it from the garage. The sun had set and the streetlights shone down brightly onto the street as they drove. Keith leaned forward, letting the rhythm of the roads absorb his mind.


End file.
